


Double Jeopardy

by aimeewrites



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Fanart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26495626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeewrites/pseuds/aimeewrites
Summary: She'd always thought it would be a one-way mission. She hadn't counted on her younger self ...A different conclusion to Endgame and what happens afterwards back on Earth
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

_“ It's about time. I'm not getting any younger, you know.”  
“You're sure you want to do this?”  
“No, but Voyager isn't big enough for both of us.”  
“Good luck, Admiral.”  
“You, too. Captain. I'm glad I got to know you again.”_

Janeway looked at Harry Kim, face tense, her mask of command firmly in place: “You’ve got 10 seconds, Mr Kim – look sharp!”

Harry nodded. He knew what rested on his shoulders – a life.

“Mr Paris, adjust your heading.”

His hands roamed over the pilot’s console and Voyager took a sharp right, flew right to the Borg sphere and skimmed its side.

“Now!” ordered Janeway.

Harry fiddled with his own console as Janeway followed Voyager’s progress towards the aperture on the screen. They had less than forty seconds to enter it and shake off their pursuers.

“I’ve got her, Captain” exclaimed Harry, just as Voyager hurled itself through the hub into the Alpha Quadrant.

Dizzy with disbelief, Janeway threw herself in her chair – they had succeeded. They were back!

“Sorry to surprise you – next time, we’ll call ahead!”

She could see the tears in Admiral Paris’s eyes. She knew her own eyes were wet from emotions she didn’t want to let flow in front of her crew and she forced herself to blink her own tears back. It wouldn’t do to crumble now, minutes before she had to confront her newest passenger. When Starfleet Command ended the transmission, she remained a few minutes on the bridge before leaving it to Chakotay and walking to the turbolift, towards sickbay, where she had ordered said passenger to be beamed directly if Harry managed to retrieve her. In the turbolift, she braced herself for the reunion – she wasn’t expecting it to go smoothly. In fact, she fully expected a stern dressing-down. However, in her mind, there hadn’t been any doubt, and there weren’t any now. Not about that anyway.

Janeway stepped into sickbay and surveyed the woman over whom the Doctor was hovering.

“How is she, Doctor?”

“ ‘She’ is the cat’s mother, Captain”, snapped the woman on the biobed.

“I see that your brain appears intact, Admiral”, Janeway replied a little acerbically.

“The admiral will be fine, Captain,” the Doctor answered. “Mr Kim got her just in time – I managed to remove the one implant already in place and administered an antidote to the virus, although it should not have caused any damage to her health. An excellent job all around, if I may say so.”

The admiral closed her eyes briefly and sighed. Janeway looked at her and then back at the doctor.

“Thank you, Doctor – could you leave us for a moment?”

The Doctor nodded and shimmered off, leaving the two women alone.

“So, Captain – can you tell me why on earth you thought rescuing me would be a good idea?”, snapped the Admiral as she sat up on the biobed and winced, putting her hand on her side.

Janeway glared at her. “So I should just have let you sacrifice yourself? I know you don’t believe in the Prime Temporal Directive anymore, but have you really discarded all and every Starfleet principles ? Like – never leave a man behind?”

“Oh – just stop with all that sanctimonious bullshit, Captain! You know very well you should have let me in that sphere – what do you think is going to happen now? Do you really think everyone is going to live happily ever after?”

“No, Admiral” Bitter emphasis on the rank. “And I wasn’t expecting you to be grateful, either, but…”

Janeway’s shoulders slumped and a few seconds later, the two women were in each other’s arms. No, she couldn’t have let her future self die, even if she knew it would probably lead to a huge shuttleload of complications. The embrace was comforting and Janeway let herself relax into it and forget that. The cold formality de rigueur for a Starfleet captain had starved her of human contact for seven years, and she could remember each and every hug she had given or received during that time – Kes, B’Elanna – but those were desperate hugs, rescue-me hugs, Kashyk – but that was different, sometimes Naomi, although the child saw her too much as an authority figure to relax fully with her… For a moment, clinging to her future self, she forgot the captain and let herself just be Kathryn Janeway.

“You really should have left me there,” murmured the admiral as she gently disentangled herself from Janeway’s arms. “You have no idea…”

“No, I don’t,” admitted Janeway. “But then, for seven years, I’ve had no idea. I didn’t know anything about the Delta quadrant. I didn’t know whether we would survive. I didn’t know whether we would ever get home. And everything was my fault. But we managed it. So …I’m sure we can survive the future too. But I’ll let you rest for now – and I’m sure the Doctor have more tests in store for you. We can talk later.”

The Admiral gave her a little resigned smile and reclined on the biobed.

Janeway knew full well she ought to go back to the bridge, or maybe to the ready room, to prepare her report for Starfleet command, but she suddenly felt light-headed. The floor spun and she leant against the wall to keep upright. Taking deep breaths, she managed to walk to the turbolift, from which she went directly to her quarters. Once there, she went directly to the sofa and tried to calm her racing heart. She knew she ought to eat something – she couldn’t remember the last time she had taken enough time to do that. She had probably survived on black coffee for about two days and her body was protesting against this harsh treatment. Just standing long enough to order a sandwich and vegetable bouillon from the replicator made her see stars and when she sat down again, she found she couldn’t manage more than a few bites. Her stomach rebelled against the solid food and a surge of nausea washed through her. 

The door chimed and although she really didn’t want anyone to see her like that, she called out a weak “come in”, praying that whoever it was would be quick and leave her alone, and although she didn’t stand, she sat up.

“Is there an emergency, Tuvok?” she asked in her best captain’s voice.

“No, Captain – everything is going well. I was concerned about you.”

“I’m fine, Tuvok – we’re going home. You’re going to get your treatment. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“Because the last days have been gruelling and you must be feeling exhausted. And because you only isolate yourself when you are not, indeed, feeling fine.”

Janeway sighed – although Tuvok would never intrude telepathically on her mind against her will, he knew her too well and didn’t need to.

“Oh, Tuvok – you don’t need to worry about me. I’m all right.”

“May I point out, Captain, that Vulcans do not worry. I will admit, however, to being…concerned.”

Janeway mustered the last dregs of energy she had to smile at him and fight her nausea to swallow the by now cold vegetable bouillon. Then she stood and came to him, putting her hand on his arm.

“I’ll admit to being a little tired and I thank you for caring. But really – I’m fine. Just give me a minute and I’ll join you on the bridge.”

The Vulcan scrutinised her for a little longer and finally nodded and left. The minute he left the room, Janeway sank back on the sofa. The magnitude of the task she and her crew had accomplished suddenly paled before what was going to happen once they landed back home. Janeway wasn’t too worried for herself, although she knew each and every of her command decisions would be dissected by Starfleet Command, and some of them might well be found unacceptable. She could be facing a court-martial. The fate of her crew, however, concerned her greatly. What was going to happen to Seven? To Chakotay and the other members of the Maquis? And to the admiral? As she thought about Chakotay and Seven, she swallowed hard and tried to forget that unbeknownst to her, they had come to mean more to each other than she to either of them.

In sick bay, the admiral had refused the sleep hypospray offered by the doctor and was now lying down, eyes closed, but wide awake. She had saved Voyager sixteen years in the Delta Quadrant. They were coming home. To a time that was not her home. To a planet she had never thought she would see again. To the consequences. Time to pay the piper.


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe she would get a dog. That was one of the questions Janeway really wanted to ask the admiral. Why didn’t you – well, I – get a dog? Preferably before you got the idea of jumping decades into the past, of course. She didn’t really expect to have a relationship – after all, for seven years, she had held the man she could see herself with at arms’ length, and now he had found someone else. Someone she saw as a daughter, to add insult to injury. But she couldn’t blame Chakotay – she could only blame herself. She was used to blaming herself, after all. With no one to hold her accountable for seven years, she had shouldered all the blame and lived with guilt choking her whenever she allowed herself time to breathe.

After a sleepless night – one of the last she would spend on Voyager – Janeway decided she would treat herself to a tour of her ship. As she walked through the various departments and decks, she saw a few faces that mirrored her own in a sea of ebullience. People who wondered what was waiting for them planetside. The former Maquis crew, for instance. Or those who since Starfleet Command had found a way to send personal letters had received bad news. She was not the only one whose fiancé had given up on her. There were some who had lost parents, siblings, or homes. Some who probably wondered whether they would want to remain in Starfleet. And some who must be wanting revenge on her from stranding them for seven years in the Delta Quadrant. She avoided both the sickbay and the astrometrics lab.

She finished on the bridge, where Chakotay’s relieved face showed her he’d been worried about her. He was probably more concerned about her fate than about his own. As a former Starfleet officer, he knew full well a captain was responsible for everything on the ship, and even though he had always fallen in line with her decisions, he had fought her often, and he knew what Starfleet would consider objectionable.

Back in her ready room, she put the final touches to her report for Starfleet. As much as she wanted to shield the admiral, there weren’t many ways to sugarcoat what she had done. She couldn’t very well not mention the Janeway from the future had ripped one of Starfleet General Orders asunder, and that she herself had trampled on the Prime Temporal Directive by installing the modifications on Voyager. When she found herself re-reading one of her sentences for the third time, she sighed and went to replicate herself a cup of coffee. She still felt slightly light-headed and nauseous but she had managed to swallow a protein and vitamins shake in lieu of breakfast, and it had helped. Enough for her to drink her usual black coffee without throwing up, at least. Her mind went to the two people she had carefully avoided during her tour: Seven and the admiral. What was going to happen now they were going home ? At least she would be spared having to marry Seven and Chakotay. But were they really together? And would they stay together, especially if the former Maquis members were pardoned? And the admiral – was there a way to make Starfleet understand her actions?

She was interrupted in her thoughts by the Doctor on her intercom, who told her the admiral wanted to see her – speaking of the devil, thought Janeway as she replied she was on her way. She glanced through her report one last time and sent it.

When she arrived in sickbay, Janeway found the Admiral champing at the bit and it made her smile – of course, there was no reason her future self would appreciate being confined to sickbay anymore than she did. Deciding she might as well assign her quarters for the last day of the trip, she accompanied her to vacant ones on the same deck as hers. The admiral immediately went to the replicator and ordered two cups of Vulcan spiced tea.

Janeway grimaced.

“You like Vulcan tea, Kathryn – and I’m sure you’ve had too much coffee already.”

“Who are you, my mother?”

“No, but until we land, I’m still your superior officer. So drink your tea and listen.”

Janeway pouted but came to sit beside the older woman on the couch.

“What are you going to do about Chakotay, Captain?”

“What do you mean, what am I going to do? It seems he’s in love with Seven.”

The admiral rolled her eyes: “And you’re in love with him! Don’t deny it – I used to be you, remember?”

“All right… I’m… Fond of him. But you managed to survive after his wedding to Seven. So I’ll get over him too.”

“What makes you think I got over him?” The admiral sighed and reclined against the back of the sofa. She took a sip of tea and resumed. “I told you I was never the same after Seven’s death. That was true. And I did manage to get over their wedding, because I loved them both. After she died… Well, I suppose we could have got together, but I’d become so adept at pulling the wool over people’s eyes that even he thought I did not want anyone in my live. And he was a broken man. So… We remained friends, and even our friendship was different – more guarded. I didn’t think I had the right to ask him for more. And when… When he…”

The admiral swallowed a sob, wiped her eyes with her hand and went on: “When he died, barely six months after we’d made it back to Earth, I fell to pieces. That’s when I realised… And that’s when I decided that it couldn’t happen.”

Janeway came a little closer to the older woman and put her hand on her thigh: “I’m so sorry for everything you went through. I… I promise I’ll think it over when we are safely back.”

The admiral closed her eyes briefly and admitted: “I can’t say I’m looking forward to that, you know?”

Janeway’s eyes softened and she started to chew on her lower lip, something she usually did when she felt even more guilty than usual. She murmured: “I’m sorry. Do you… Do you resent me for rescuing you?”

The admiral pondered the question for a while.

“No – because I’d have done the same”, she finally said, giving Janeway a knowing look. “And what matters is that we avoided all those future deaths. And although I’m not really looking forward to whatever Starfleet has in store for me, I really don’t thinking it will be worse than being assimilated by the Borg queen.”

Both women suddenly grinned. Then Janeway became serious again: “I wish there had been another way. If I hadn’t been so bloody principled in the first place and destroyed that array…”

“You couldn’t have done otherwise”, replied the admiral. “You had to – I had to. I was too young to know it wasn’t the best course of action. Too imbued with Startfleet. I should have remembered that good deeds never go unpunished. And now, you need to go and get some rest, Captain. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Four hours later, both women were still awake, each in their quarters, staring at the Alpha Quadrant skies.


	3. Chapter 3

“No fireworks, this time,” observed the admiral, standing near Janeway on the bridge.

“I’m sorry?”

“I gave them twenty-three years to prepare, so they had time to put on a good show. This time, you took them by surprise.”

Janeway shuddered:” Thank God for that!” Even though she had trained extensively for diplomatic missions and had even had etiquette lessons at her secondary school, chosen by her parents for its traditional curriculum, Janeway never really liked to be the centre of attention. She could command a bridge, because she was the Captain then, not Kathryn Janeway. Thus, the fact that they might escape the spotlight was more than welcome.

Fifteen minutes later, Tom Paris smoothly landed Voyager on the air stripe of the Presidio and Janeway fiercely wiped her eyes with her hand. She glanced at the admiral and envied her stoicism. The older woman stood ramrod straight, staring at the viewscreen. The crew, not as blasé, erupted into cheers.

*****

Champagne flute in hand, Janeway stood in a corner of the room, observing her crew enjoy their first hours on Earth. She had been separated from her officers by several admirals and other high-ranking admirals early on, who wanted to meet her or to congratulate her on her accomplishments and now that they had left, she was able to take stock of the situation. She looked for the admiral and found her apparently deep in conversation with Chakotay. Janeway’s cheeks burned – what if the older woman was telling him about their conversation of the previous evening? But surely she wouldn’t do that in a room full of people… Would she? In another corner, Janeway saw Tuvok with his wife, T’Pel, and a young man who must have been his eldest son. Having Tuvok’s family meet them on their arrival had been one of the requests she had made to Starfleet Command a few days before, in order for him to perform the Fal-tor-voh that would save his neural capacities as soon as possible. She smiled as she saw Tuvok’s expression, as close to contentment as she had ever seen him look. The Doctor was talking animatedly with Reginald Barclay, Tom and B’Elanna were showing off Miral, and Seven … Seven was nowhere to be found.

Janeway slipped away and wandered into the corridor, peering in several rooms until she came upon Seven in a small dark one at the opposite end of the reception room. She sat hunched up on the floor and Janeway knelt down beside her, her knees protesting at the awkward position.

“What is it, Seven?” As much as she wanted to distance herself from the young woman, Janeway couldn’t leave her like that, so obviously in distress.

“I am unaccustomed to crowds and the noise makes me uncomfortable. Plus – I have no one.”

“I understand. I’m not that fond of crowds myself. But you have all of us. I’m sure Chakotay would love to have you with him.”

Why do I keep doing that to myself, thought Janeway as she tried to persuade Seven to come back to the party with her. She understood the loneliness Seven felt. When she had severed her from the Collective, she had explained to Seven that they were all lost, faraway from their families, and that they had all experienced something similar to what she was going through. And here, at the reception, Janeway was feeling particularly forlorn – she had been hoping that Phoebe and her mother would make the trip from Indiana but they either hadn’t arrived yet and were not coming. She wondered how her mother would like being introduced to the admiral…And how much they looked like each other, since they were about the same age.

She finally managed to coax Seven back to the reception with her and went to get them both grenadines – a taste she remembered from her childhood. As she returned to where she’d left Seven standing, she was stopped by Tal Celes, who informed her someone had been looking for her, pointing to one of the tables laden with food. Janeway smiled at the young woman, who since their away mission had not only gained a lot in confidence, but also looked up to Janeway with boundless admiration. Following the young Bajoran’s finger with her eyes, Janeway saw her sister surveying the buffet with a frown.

“Not artistic enough for you?” said Janeway as she crept up on Phoebe.

“Kathryn!” The younger woman threw herself in her arms and they hugged tightly. When they separated, Phoebe had tears in her eyes, which she wiped with the long, flowing sleeve of her dress.

“That must be a Janeway trait”, commented Janeway, “never having a hankie when you need one. How is Mother? Did she come with you?”

Phoebe shook her head mutely and drew Janeway aside. When she found a quiet corner, she faced her sister, her face suddenly serious.

“Kathryn. Mum… Mum died a year ago. I know I should have told you, but… I didn’t know how to do it in a letter. I’m sorry.”

Janeway winced and swallowed hard, staring away as she fought to regain her composure. During all the years they had had no way of contacting Earth, she had known it was a possibility, had even come to terms with the idea she would never see her mother again, but from the time they had started to receive letters, she had started to hope again. To hope that she would find Earth just as she had left it. Even though Marc was not available anymore. Not that she wanted him, but.. So she was not prepared to hear she was now motherless.

“I’m sorry too, Phoebe. That you had to take care of everything by yourself. How did she …”

“She didn’t suffer – she had a heart attack in her sleep.”

Janeway tried to smile, but only a poor imitation rose on her lips. She hugged her sister again.

“Come on, there’s someone you’ll want to meet.”

She searched the room for the admiral and found her in conversation with Harry Kim and his parents.

“Admiral; you remember Phoebe?”

The admiral looked startled for a moment and then she smiled: “You look well, Phoebe – I’m glad to see you again.”

“What…What …What kind of joke is that? ” gasped Phoebe, staring at Janeway and the admiral. Janeway took pity on her and explained: “It’s not a joke – the admiral is me…Well, me in a few years – she came back in time to rescue Voyager.” As both Janeways tried to teach Phoebe the basics of temporal mechanics, the crowd thinned out, leaving mostly only the Voyager officers in the room.

A tall man wearing a security uniform approached them : “Admiral, Captain – I’m here to escort you to your quarters. Would you follow me?” Two other security people had joined him, and as Janeway glanced around the room, she saw that Seven and Chakotay had been similarly accosted.

“Where are you taking us?” asked Janeway, looking daggers at him. When he didn’t answer, she barked: “I outrank you, Lieutenant, so please answer my question.”

He obviously thought better of remaining silent: “You, Captain, are going to the VIP quarters here on the base. The admiral is also remaining on the base, in more secure quarters.”

Janeway looked at the admiral but the older woman’s face was inscrutable, except for a small, wry smile.

“Send in the clowns”, murmured the admiral. And then, turning to Janeway and Phoebe : “Good luck, Captain. Hopefully you won’t need it. Goodnight, Phoebe.”


	4. Chapter 4

For seven years, Janeway had thought she missed being alone. On a starship with a crew of more than one hundred and forty, you were never alone. Of course, she had been lonely – almost desperately so at times. But never alone. But in these sterile quarters provided for her at Starfleet Headquarters, she felt both lonely and alone, and neither of the sensations were welcome. She had enjoyed the shower and stayed under the water as long as she possibly could, coming out just when her skin had started to wrinkle. Mendelssohn’s Scottish symphony was playing softly in the background, and she had replicated herself a cup of coffee.

Now, seated on the bed – a single bed, not even a double one like in her quarters aboard Voyager, - she contemplated her situation. That in was the middle of the night only added insult to injury – in the Delta Quadrant, where there had been no days or nights, she had mostly slept well. And now, oblivion deserted her, her mind going over the reception, especially the last moments of it. She hadn’t even had time to talk with her former self before the admiral was led away. Then Phoebe had left, too – they hadn’t had enough time together. They had always had a complicated relationship – polar opposites of each other, they loved but didn’t always understand each other. Phoebe had often accused her of going into Starfleet to ensure her place as their father’s favourite. Her “Electra complex”, according to Phoebe. Janeway was certain Phoebe must be angry against her for not having been home to make the arrangements for their mother’s funeral. When their father had died, she had numb with grief that she hadn’t even been able to attend him or Justin’s funeral, leaving all the burden on her mother’s and Phoebe’s shoulders. To have to do it all over again alone must have been devastating for Phoebe. She herself hadn’t even had time to process the news properly – the news that she was an orphan now. She briefly wondered whether there as an age limit for being an orphan, but decided there wasn’t.

Then she had been brought to these spartan quarters, She had been expecting that, of course, but, somehow, until it had happened, optimism had prevailed. But now that the admiral, Chakotay and probably Seven were held in secure quarters – maybe even prison in Chakotay’s case – she had to do her best to get them out. She had been told she would be debriefed during the next two days – well, that day, actually, since it was already 4am. There was every possibility she would be told she would be court-martialled. Would she be able to rescue the others in that case?

****

Admiral Kathryn Janeway was restless. In the “secure quarters” she had been brought to, which were only slightly larger than a crewman’s cabin, she had found some pyjamas, toiletries, and a micro-replicator. This would only provide water, tea, coffee, and maybe biscuits, but she wasn’t hungry. She thought wistfully of the suite she had occupied before her little jump into the past – not that she was one for luxury, but some creature comforts were nice. Of course, she might be looking at the rest of her life spent in a cell or a penal colony, so she probably shouldn’t complain. Seeing Phoebe had been unsettling. It had reminded her that she had never actually said goodbye to her before leaving. Oh, hell – the whole thing was more harrowing than she had expected – seeing them all again, young – alive. And seeing herself… a slightly more pig-headed version of herself, but also a more principled one. She stared at the ceiling, willing herself to sleep and not succeeding.

*****

“So you integrated Mr Chakotay, Ms Torres and the other members of the Maquis into your crew at the very beginning of your journey, and in the case of Mr. Chakotay and Ms Torres, you even gave them key positions on your ship, knowing full well that you had been sent to bring them back so they could face trial for their crimes against the Federation?

“I did. What did you want me to do? Throw them all in the brig and leave them there for the next seventy years? Space them?” snapped Janeway at the two men sitting in front of her. Admiral Paris, Admiral Berg and Captain Rixx had been asking questions for more than three hours, mostly about details she had already written in her logs, and it seemed they had gone full circle, as they now started again at the beginning. After a sleepless night, she was exhausted and not in the best mood. Even though anger remained in her blue eyes, she immediately apologised – she knew she couldn’t antagonise her superior officers. Moreover, being in Starfleet headquarters always reminded her that she was after all only a cog in a big machine, something she had almost forgotten for seven years, and as a Starfleet officer, she owed them respect.

“They acquitted themselves of their duty with true dedication and respect for Starfleet principle, and as I wrote in my reports, I hope this will be taken into consideration”, added Janeway more calmly. The three men remained impassive. Finally, just before they dismissed her, she asked: “May I ask what’s going to happen to Admiral Janeway, Sirs? And to Seven of Nine and Icheb?”

The three men looked at each other before Admiral Paris replied: “Seven of Nine and Icheb are currently being examined by Starfleet Medical and will be released shortly. I believe young Icheb expressed an interest in the Academy, and we will endeavour to satisfy his wishes. Seven of Nine will be debriefed and we’re hoping to find her a position here. The Admiral,” he paused and sighed, “The Admiral will be court-martialled in a few days. What she did is serious, Kathryn. Surely you didn’t expect us to close our eyes?”

“No, Sir,” replied Janeway soberly. “I knew she would have to answer for her actions.”

“And Kathryn,” went on Admiral Paris. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that you’re not out of the woods yet either. You must know some of your decisions were questionable.”

Janeway nodded and just before the admiral left the room, she added: “I’m only glad I got Voyager home, Sir, and that Miral got the chance to meet her grandfather. But I’m prepared to face the consequences too. Once the debriefings are over, can I go home or should I consider myself confined to quarters?”

The admiral smiled at the mention of his grand-daughter: “I’m very glad you did. You have several more sessions to go through, Kathryn, but after that, you can consider yourself free to leave.”

He didn’t add “We have the means to find you” but she knew there was every probability she would be monitored in some way. It was only later, during a coffee break, when she realised what she had said – she had no home to go to. Her flat had probably been emptied and re-let when Voyager had been declared lost, and Phoebe had told her she had sold their family home as she couldn’t see the point of keeping it for herself. She could, of course, go to Phoebe’s, who was living with her partner Lucy in Montreal, but she had to admit the only good thing about doing that would be to see Molly again. Phoebe had told her the eleven-year-old dog was still active and in good health and had adapted well to life in the city

*******

In his cell, Chakotay wondered what was happening to the rest of the crew, especially to Seven and the two Kathryns. The flowers Seven had brought him on their dinner date four days previously must still be in his quarters on Voyager, he mused, unless a cleaning crew had disposed of them. He wondered whether she still thought she needed to “alter the parameters of their relationship” – after all, they were back now, whatever the admiral had told her would not apply. He also wondered at himself for having entered into that relationship in the first place. Seven was a very attractive, very clever young woman – much too young for him, actually. He liked her very much – heck, he probably loved her, too, but she didn’t haunt his nights. She didn’t make his heart beat just a little faster, make his eyes just a little brighter when he was with her. That privilege was reserved for a slight lion-hearted blue-eyed woman whom he couldn’t quite imagine living without.


	5. Chapter 5

“Admiral Kathryn Janeway, please rise. You are charged with failure to obey orders, dereliction of duty, conduct unbecoming an officer, abetting, larceny, coercion of a subordinate absence without leave and repeated violations of the Temporal Prime Directive. The charges are as follow…”

When she had been told of the general court-martial she would be facing, she had asked to see Admiral Paris. Once they were together, she had gone straight to the point: “Admiral. I know this must be awkward for you and I apologise.”

“Call me Owen, please. We’ve know each other for quite a long time.”

“Yes, we have.” Admiral Janeway steeled herself for what she was about to do. She hated begging for favours, but it had to be done.

“Owen – we’ve been through a lot together. You gave me my first Starfleet assignment – hell, you gave me my first chance when I was still at the Academy by accepting to direct my junior thesis.”

Owen Paris smiled a little, remembering the young Kathryn Janeway, who’d almost been shaking with fright when she had come to ask him to direct her junior thesis on massive compact halo objects, his specialty. He had given her an almost impossible deadline, to ensure she was serious, and she had met it. And then, when they had both been taken prisoners by the Cardassians during the Arias Expedition, he had been impressed by her bravery and recommended she switched from sciences to command. He had been overjoyed when Voyager had come home, but worried about what was going to happen to her captain and her future self.

Admiral Janeway brought him back to the present: “I want you to convince Starfleet to leave Kathryn alone and to put all the charges on me. After all, when I brought Voyager back in my timeline, people were so - well, impressed, I guess – that we were hailed as heroes. I never faced any consequences – I got promoted almost immediately, got a cushy office jobs…I know you can’t do that now, but you need Kathryn. I know the Dominion war left the forces depleted. You’ll need her.”

Owen Paris looked at her searchingly. He recognised Janeway’s need to be held accountable – she’d always been like that. The touch of steeliness, the stubbornness, too, were familiar to him. He nodded slowly: “All right. I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you, Owen. There’s another thing I need to ask you.”

She looked at him straight in the eyes: “I need you to promise me that Kathryn won’t come. To the court-martial, I mean. Not as onlooker, nor as witness. Otherwise she’ll try to do something foolish and jeopardize her career. Can you promise me that?” She held her breath – this was important.

Admiral Paris nodded again: “It won’t be easy, but – yes, you have my word, Admiral.”

“Kathryn, please – I’m still me… Although I’m sure you never expected to see me older than you. Now – how are Tom and B’Elanna? And little Miral?”

When he left, Admiral Janeway relaxed for the first time since they had come back to the Alpha Quadrant. Hopefully, she would be able to protect her former self. She wished she could be as proactive in her love life. If she got a chance, she would try to contact Chakotay and make him see sense.

They could have added “resisted arrest” to the list, too, if Harry hadn’t wiped their little interlude from the logs of the USS Rhode Island. Not that they could verify something that technically hadn’t happened yet. That was what her counsel was hinging his defence on, actually – the young Lieutenant attributed to her was going to argue that the whole thing hadn’t happened yet. He just didn’t know that she didn’t intend to follow his advice…

“Admiral Kathryn Janeway, how do you plead?”

“Guilty to all charges, Admiral.”

Lieutenant Weiss, who’d been sitting next to her, jumped up and asked for a minute with his client. “It’s all right, Lieutenant,” said the admiral softly. “You did your work, but I’m not going to deny what I did. I’m not going to change my plea.”

Rear Admiral Bennet went on: “Admiral Janeway, a plea of guilty is the strongest form of proof known to the law. The court will only accept your plea of guilty if you are pleading guilty because you are in fact guilty and because you believe you are guilty. If you do not believe you are guilty, then you should not plead guilty for any reason. Even if you believe you are guilty, you still have a legal and moral right to plead not guilty. If you were to plead not guilty, then you would be presumed under the law to be innocent, and only by introducing evidence and proving your guilt beyond a reasonable doubt could the Federation overcome this presumption of innocence. Do you understand this?”

“Yes, Sir, I do.”

She had believed herself guilty for thirty-three years, ever since she had decided to destroy the Caretaker’s array. She wasn’t about to change her mind now.

“No Sir.”

“In a moment, you will be placed under oath, and we will discuss the facts underlying your plea of guilty.”

A few seconds later, Admiral Janeway stood up and swore to say the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

As Admiral Nechayev detailed the list of charges, Admiral Janeway stared straight ahead, not wanting the members of the court to read any regret or misgivings in her eyes. Due to the sensitive nature of the charges, the admiral’s court-martial had not been opened to the public and she was facing a court composed of Admiral Hendricks, Admiral Whatley, Admiral Nechayev and Rear Admiral Bennett, the Judge Advocate General. .

She had, indeed, deceived the Doctor into giving her the chronexaline, forced Miral Paris to organise for her the meeting with Korath, stolen the tachyon pulse, and taken herself back to the past with future technology… As for whatever she had done when she was captain of Voyager, the list was quite long – so many times when she had sidestepped on the wrong side of the line of the Prime Directive. Some she would have on her conscience forever, like when she had had to kill Tuvix. Some had been the direct consequences of her own personality flaws, like when she had doggedly pursued Captain Ransom, her pursuits ultimately leading to his death, or when she had more or less abandoned her crew while they were in the Void, or when she had not ordered the self-destruct of Voyager when it had been taken by the Kazon, believing – as it turned out, rightly – that they would managed to get their ship back. Some of them she considered she had done because she had no other way to ensure the survival of her crew, like the alliance with the Borg… As she listened to her past, memories assailed her and she had to steel herself not to react.

“Trial counsel, please proceed.”

She had no idea whether Admiral Paris would have been able to keep to his word. She was thankful when the trial counsel announced he would only use her own logs and the CMO’s and First Officer’s logs to make his case. As her former misdeeds were dissected in front of the jury, she remembered the first time she had met Tuvok. She wondered if Admiral Nechayev remembered that afternoon too. She had been called in front of her, Admiral Paris and Admiral Finnegan for a review of her first mission as captain. Tuvok had proceeded to detail the forty-three violations he had observed in reviewing her logs, and although she had been authorised to answer the charges and had stood up to him, she had still been rebuked for having violated technical procedures. Tuvok had been assigned to her ship afterwards, to the great displeasure of both of them, but although her cheeks still smarted from the way she had been chastised then, it had been the start of a beautiful friendship. She was glad she had been able to return Voyager back to Earth in time to save Tuvok’s mind.

After the trial counsel had finished presenting his evidence, it was the turn of her defence counsel. She had asked Lieutenant Weiss not to call anyone to testify on her behalf, but she wasn’t sure he would obey her wishes. She was almost sure he would not call Chakotay, since his position was even more precarious than hers, but what if he had contacted other members of her crew?

When Lieutenant Weiss announced he would also be using the logs, she almost relaxed, but as his mention of two witnesses, she tensed again. Who ?

He used the logs skilfully, showing all the instances she had had no choice and demonstrating her exemplary actions for the safety of the crew. He talked about her “heroism”, her “self-sacrificial instincts”, her “unflagging devotion to Starfleet” and her “steadfast attention to the well-being of her crew.” After that, he announced he had two recorded testimonies, the first one of Tuvok, who, of course, as diligently as he had, all those years ago, detailed her failings during her first mission as captain, this time defended the logic of her actions. Thinking again as how she had left him in her time, hunched up on the floor in a dark room, scribbling endless nonsense, she comforted herself with the thought that at least, this was not in his future. The last testimony both surprised and angered her, although she understood the rationale behind it. Lieutenant Weiss provided a recording of the Doctor, who testified that with everything she had been through during the twenty-three years she had spent on Voyager, she could not be considered of sound mind and therefore should be acquitted of all charges concerning what she had done recently by reason of lack of mental responsibility.

Then she was asked if she had anything to say.

“Admirals, I cannot, for obvious reasons, prove I am of sound mind. After all, very few mad men are aware of their own madness. Nor can I affirm that my actions prove I acted in a rational way. But the Doctor, however sentient he has become, remains a medical hologram, in no way programmed to be a counsellor or a psychiatrist, and therefore cannot judge of my sanity either.”

Sending mute apologies to the Doctor, wherever he was, she sat down again.

The court was adjourned for the deliberation and Admiral Janeway was glad of the opportunity to stretch her legs and have a cup of coffee. It was foul – not as bad as some of Neelix’s concoctions, but still pretty unpalatable. She supposed that if she was going to prison, she ought to get used to it. At least Kathryn had not been summoned to appear.

An hour later, she and her counsel were called back in.


	6. Chapter 6

Janeway was hopping mad. No one would tell her anything about either the fate of the Maquis or Admiral Janeway. Instead, she was stuck in endless debriefing sessions. Starfleet Intelligence, Starfleet Security, the Temporal Investigating Commission… And now she was on her way to see Deanna Troi for a psychological evaluation. It hadn’t been presented like that – it was supposed to be a counselling session, but Janeway knew it was another test. At least Deanna had experience in deep space missions and would understand what she had gone through.

The first half-hour of the interview was spent in generalities – how the crew had reacted to being stranded in the Delta Quadrant, how the Maquis crew had been integrated, how she had coped with the loss of several crewmen. And then Deanna Troi went straight for the jugular: “What about your relationship with Mr Chakotay?”

“My relationship? Well, he has been my First Officer for seven years, so…we’ve had your disagreements, of course, as I’m sure you’re well aware…But I would define our relationship as one of trust and confidence.”

Deanna Troi gave her a knowing look and Janeway swallowed hard. She went on: “I’ve come to rely on him, as a colleague and …a friend.”

“I’ve been told you’re very concerned about what’s going to happen to him now, Captain…”

“Of course I’m concerned, Commander! I’m concerned about every member of my crew!”

Deanna Troi held Janeway’s gaze for a moment, and there was such understanding and compassion in the counsellor’s eyes that Janeway suddenly couldn’t resist any longer. Sleepless nights and endless meetings where she had had to pretend everything was fine had worn her down.

“All right, you win, Commander,” she went on. “I – Chakotay is…special. I’m – fond of him. But nothing happened between us, and… He found someone else anyway. I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.” As happened every time she thought about what Admiral Janeway had told her, a sharp pang of pain in her stomach almost robbed her of breath. She really wanted him and Seven to be happy, but…

“What about your own happiness, Captain? Or do you feel so guilty about stranding your ship in the Delta Quadrant that you have decided you didn’t deserve happiness?”

Another well-aimed shot – damn it, the woman was good: “I had no business entering a relationship with a subordinate, Commander. It’s not a matter of happiness – it’s a matter of command structure and regulations.”

“All right…But think about it, Kathryn – you’re not his captain anymore.”

Janeway flinched at the use of her first name – she did not allow many people this familiarity.

“It doesn’t matter, Commander – like I said, he found someone else.”

Deanna Troi remained silent and Janeway fidgeted uncomfortably. Finally, she blurted out: “How do you stop caring?”

“I’m sorry?”

Staring at her hands on her lap, Janeway went on in a very quiet voice: “I just want to stop caring – to stop thinking I’m responsible for everyone. It’s… It’s unbearable. I’m always so afraid of losing people. I think it started when – when my father and my fiancé died in that shuttlecraft accident. You know about that, right?”

Deanna nodded and Janeway went on: “I tried to save them, and I failed. And then… Afterwards, I just shut down, because I didn’t want to feel anymore. Actually, maybe it started long before that – maybe it started when I was a child and my father was never home. I always tried to make him proud of me, I thought – I thought he would be home more if I made him proud. Of course, now I understand I couldn’t compete with his job, but… Anyway, when it didn’t work, I tried to keep all the hurt inside, to never show I cared. But – even if you try to stop caring, to stop feeling, you can’t. You just bury all your emotions deep down, until they gnaw at your inside. And… I can’t do it anymore. Chakotay… Seven… The Admiral… It’s too much.”

She began to cry then, silent tears at first that became full-watery sobs when Deanna stood up and came to take her in her arms.

******

“Accused and counsel, please rise. Admiral Kathryn Janeway, this court-martial finds you, in accordance with your plea, guilty of the charges now pending before this court. We will now proceed with the sentencing.”

Standing ramrod straight, the admiral faced the court. She was ready.

« In selecting a sentence, we have considered all matters in extenuation and mitigation, as in the accused’s age and good character, her record of service in Starfleet, the number of testimonies in favour of her bravery and valour, including her Silver Cross and her Order of the Black Star. There is, however, no doubt about the severity of the crimes committed, and it is with my deepest regret that this court-martial sentences Admiral Kathryn Janeway as thus. Admiral Kathryn Janeway, you are discharged from the rights, duties and privileges of a Starfleet Officer, said discharge to be listed on your record as dishonourable. You forfeit all benefits of your service, including your pension, and are forbidden to reapply to Starfleet. Moreover, you will be remanded to a Federation prison here in San Francisco, where you will serve a sentence of a year. Afterwards, you will be freed with the obligation to wear an e-monitor. The court has spoken.”

She was led out of the room by two security officers and told she would shortly be transferred to the prison. Meanwhile, she was taken back to the small room she had been occupying before. Only when she was alone did she allow her shoulders to sag her and her mask of impassivity to drop. Now she knew her fate, she wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling – was it relief? Would having been tried and sentenced relieve the burden of guilt she had borne for so many years? All in all, it could have been worse, and if her condemnation spared her younger self, she had won. She would survive a year in prison. The e-monitor meant that she would never be able to set foot into space again. Earth monitor were implanted under you skin and reacted with gravity – if she ever tried to board a shuttle or a ship, she would be arrested and probably imprisoned for life. She thought about Tuvok – if he decided to settle on Vulcan, she would never see him again. But… Who was she kidding? Why did she imagine any of Voyager’s crew would want to see her? She had no one in this time. Even her younger self was under no obligation to see her. She probably despised her, actually, for the same reason she, who hadn’t cried for decades, felt her eyes moisten. Because being dishonourably discharged from an organisation she had given her life to, her father had given his life to, although she had expected it, was almost unbearable.


	7. Chapter 7

Three weeks later

Janeway had a strong impression of déjà vu as she came into the room where three admirals were waiting for her.

“Admirals.”

“Captain – please sit down.”

The ranks were the same, the people different – or were they? Never had Starfleet Command felt less human to her. After three weeks of being subjected to what they called debriefs and she called interrogations, the faces were beginning to blur. She forced herself to focus as this session was important – she was going to know her fate and the fate of the Maquis. Apparently Starfleet Command had finally reached a conclusion. She had come to her own, of course, about herself – no one had told her anything about her older self, and of course, she hadn’t been able to visit Chakotay wherever he was held, so when she was not being questioned, she had a lot of time to think. Too much time. She thought that if she were lucky, she would be asked to resign, and if she was unlucky, she would be booted out. Probably imprisoned, too. Some of the brass she had encountered during the debriefs had all but told her so. She still held hope for the Maquis, though.

Two days previously, she had finally been able to talk to Seven, who had been released from Starfleet Medical and allowed to go and finally meet her aunt Irene. Seven had told her the first days had been “a little challenging”, but that “she had finally adapted to having a relative and it was less disagreeable than she had imagined it would be”. In Seven’s language, this was high praise indeed, and Janeway had felt a little lighter. She had tried to reassure the younger woman about Chakotay, assuring her that even though he was detained, the living conditions in Federation prison were humane, and she had been rather thrown when Seven had dismissed her attempts at reassurance. She had to admit she hadn’t tried to probe any further, for any thought of Seven and Chakotay’s relationship was painful.

As she faced the triumvirate of admirals, Janeway attempted to calm herself with a Vulcan respiration technique. Each beat of her heart resonated in her brain and although it pained her to admit it, she was afraid. Her whole life had revolved around Starfleet for so long that she had no idea what she would do if she were to live without it, especially now that she had nothing else. For seven years, she had had an objective – to bring Voyager home. It was her duty, her mission. And now that it was done, she felt adrift. In charge of her own life, but of a life without aspirations or goals. When she was a cadet, she wanted to make her father proud – it had been her main purpose in life. When she was an ensign, she wanted to be a good scientist, to be a good officer, and eventually, maybe, to become chief scientific officer one day. Then she and Admiral Paris had been taken by the Cardassians, her father and her fiancé had died, and she had switched to command, because… Because she had thought that by being in charge, she would somehow care less and keep her feelings under control. How wrong she had been! How could she not have seen that by being responsible for a crew, she would discover new layers of pain and emotions, and that keeping them firmly in check behind the mask of command would cost her more than anything she had been through in the past? But even then, she had strived to be the best Starfleet officer she could, because she didn’t know how to do otherwise. She didn’t know how to live without what had become her whole being.

“Captain?”

Janeway realised that she had drifted away and refocused on the men and women facing her. They all looked serious, although she thought she could see a small smile dangling at the corner of Admiral Paris’s lips.

“I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

Admiral Nechayev spoke up: “Very well. We have reviewed your logs, your debriefing interviews and the psychological assessment provided by Commander Troy. Following the court-martial of former Admiral Kathryn Janeway, we have come to a decision as to your future in Starfleet.”

Janeway forced herself to remain absolutely still, although the news came as a shock. She had been kept completely in the dark regarding her future self ever since their first day on Earth. She had anticipated the admiral would be court-martialled, of course, but she had hoped to intercede in her favour. Admiral Nechayev was still talking : “Former Admiral Kathryn Janeway has been convicted of the charges incurred during her time as Voyager’s captain as well as those she incurred in her time.”

“What?? I mean – I’m sorry, Admiral, but that’s – that’s…” Janeway didn’t often find herself speechless, but she hadn’t expected that. If anything, she had seen herself being tried for all the transgressions, even the ones she hadn’t committed yet.

Admiral Nechayev’s eyes softened: “Former Admiral Janeway insisted on that, and the court accepted her guilty plea. She was dishonourably discharged from Starfleet two weeks ago and sent to the Alpha Prison for a year.”

Janeway swallowed hard – the idea that her future self had taken the blame for everything was overwhelming, and so was knowing that a version of herself had been dishonourably discharged from Starfleet.

“Therefore, Captain, you will be pleased to know that as our laws forbid double jeopardy, you are free of all charges, and as you have probably guessed, we need all hands on deck after the war with the Dominion. For now, however, we need your expertise here at headquarters, and we have no plans for sending you on another deep-space mission for the foreseeable future.”

“I… I see.”

Janeway was beginning to feel light-headed – not enough food or coffee – and the heat of the room suddenly stifled her. She managed to steady her voice long enough to add: “Thank you, Sirs. I shall, of course, do my best to serve Starfleet and the Federation at whatever post you think I shall be best suited. May I – may I ask what is to become of the former Maquis people who served on Voyager?”

“As you know, Captain, the Maquis is no longer a concern in this Quadrant. Moreover, due to the situation with the Cardassians and the Dominion, things have… evolved, and we are ready to offer a full pardon to the people who served on Voyager. Your former first officer is being released as we speak.”

Janeway finally managed a smile – not a full-blown, megawatt smile, but a tentative smile, like a peace offering. “Thank you, Admirals. May I…?”

“Of course – you’re dismissed, Captain. Please report to Starfleet Command on Monday for your new position.”

As Janeway exited the building, she only had one thought – she had to see Chakotay. And then, she had to see her future self. She had apologies to make and thanks to give.


	8. Chapter 8

**Two months later**

“Please slow down, Ms Hansen – I don’t understand what you’re saying – Seven is what? – all right – please don’t panic. I’m coming – I’ll be at your place in… About an hour. Everything will be all right.”

As she was trying to calm Seven’s aunt down, Janeway felt a slow sense of dread seeping through her veins. She hadn’t been in regular contact with Seven or with any of her former crew, for that matter, since she had taken her new position at headquarters. B’Elanna and Tom were busy with their new jobs too, on another starship, and the little time they spent planetside was spent with their daughter. Harry Kim, promoted to Lieutenant, had invited her to his wedding to Tal Celes, but she had declined. She had no wish to have to fake jollity for half a day, and even though she knew the young man had real affection for her, which she reciprocated, she just couldn’t do it. Let him enjoy that day with his family, the one he hadn’t seen for seven years because of her stupid principles.

Tuvok was spending some time with his family on Vulcan and Chakotay… She had no idea what Chakotay was doing. She had been able to see him once, just after he had been released from prison. In fact, it had been sheer luck that she had seen him at all. When she had been released from her last meeting with the admiralty, she had rushed to the prison, only to be told Chakotay had already left. Dismayed, she had tried to track him down, to no avail. Finally, at a loose end for the first time since they had landed, she had decided to go to her quarters on Voyager and retrieve her personal belongings. She had looked at all the objects she had accumulated in seven years and finally decided to recycle most of her own possessions – the gifts she had received from various alien people belonged to Starfleet. As she left with a surprisingly light bag of belongings, she had bumped straight into Chakotay. As she thought about that encounter, a dull ache started in her stomach and the weight of all the padds on her desk suddenly pressed on her heart. Chakotay had been as cold and distant as the first time they had met. His deep dark eyes had stared at her as if their seven years of complicity had vanished into thin air, and she was meeting the Maquis captain of the Val Jean expecting to be taken into custody. Taken aback, she had floundered for a minute or two before asking him if they could meet for diner now that they were both free. With a voice full of icy shards, he had told her he needed to go to his home planet – his family needed him. She still cringed as she remembered the small, needy voice she had used when she had asked him when he would be coming back. There had been no reply, and she hadn’t heard from him since.

Janeway hurried to the transporter platform and entered the coordinates of Irene Hansen’s home. She prayed that one of her worst nightmares wasn’t coming true. On her way, she paged the Doctor – thankfully, due to his being a hologram, she could still page him like she could on Voyager – and appraised him of the situation. Irene Hansen hadn’t said much – only that several pieces of metal had appeared on Seven and that the young woman seemed sluggish and a little disoriented.

When she arrived at Seven’s aunt’s house, she was greeted by a frantic Irene, who told her Seven had fallen into a kind of coma. Janeway hurried into the living-room, where she found the young blonde inert on the sofa. She immediately took charge: “All right, Ms Hansen – we have to get her to San Franscico – this happened once before, and Voyager’s Doctor managed to save her.” She didn’t add that Seven had almost died, and would have if Icheb hadn’t sacrificed his own cortical node…She helped Irene carry Seven into the small shuttle Ms Hansen had for her personal use and took the helm. The trip took almost two hours, during which they didn’t say a word. If she had had any other choice, Janeway would not have brought Seven back to Starfleet Medical but she couldn’t see another solution. She used a transporter to beam herself and Seven there and told Seven’s aunt to go to her quarters, where she would be able to have a little peace and quiet. “I promise you Seven will be in good hands,” she said, looking straight into the kindly blue eyes, so like Seven’s own, and hating herself for not being able to promise the younger woman would be fine.

By the time Seven was lying on a biobed and being scanned by a frowning Doctor, her skin had taken a silvery tinge and more implants had appeared on her body. Unable to stay away, Janeway hovered in the room. Finally, she couldn’t stand the Doctor’s mutterings anymore and blurted out: “What is it, Doctor? Why aren’t you doing anything?”

He turned towards her and his defeated expression told her everything she didn’t want to hear.

“I’m sorry, Captain. It’s her cortical node. And we still can’t replicate a new one.”

Janeway grabbed the wall, feeling the floor suddenly shift under her feet.

“It’s not possible, Doctor. You – you have to save her.”

He didn’t answer. Janeway took a few steps toward the bed and bent over it. She caressed Seven’s brow with her hand. It was already cold under her touch. “I failed you- I failed you,” she repeated over and over again, until she found herself led away by the Doctor, who motioned for her to sit down. She buried her face in her hands and wept. 

When she woke up, Janeway looked around, feeling disoriented. Her eyes focused on the Doctor, hovering over her. “What happened?” she slurred.

“I had to sedate you. When Seven – when Seven died – you started crying and – you became hysterical. I thought it was for the best.”

Janeway sat up abruptly. It came back to her in a rush – how she couldn’t stop crying. How she had started to throw things around and how she had pushed away the Doctor when he’d tried to come near her.

“I’m sorry, Doctor. You did the right thing. But I have to – I have to go and tell Seven’s aunt. My God – how do I do that? How do I explain that I brought her long-lost niece back to her, and that now she’s dead? And I’ve got to tell the others…Chakotay…”

Another thought came to her: “The admiral.” She still thought of her future self as “the admiral”. “I have to go and tell the admiral. I can’t. I can’t.”

“You can, Captain. You’re a strong woman. A fine officer. You can do it.”

Janeway stared at the Doctor, as if she was trying to understand his words. And then she sighed, tears again rising in her eyes: “You don’t understand, Doctor. I’m so, so tired of being strong.”


	9. Chapter 9

She had ranted and raved and hit a brick wall. Janeway hadn’t been able to stop Starfleet Medical from performing a thorough autopsy – more like a dissection, really – on Seven – and although she could understand it from the scientific point of view, the thought nauseated her. Irene had asked for her to be buried in a family plot and that had been allowed. Chakotay hadn’t come to the funeral. He hadn’t even returned her messages – she had no idea if he had even received them. The others had come – not Tuvok, but B’Elanna and Tom and other members of Voyager’s crew. Icheb had been devastated. And she herself hadn’t been able to shed a tear. After her breakdown at Starfleet Medical, her eyes had remained dry and for a brief moment, during the funeral, she had imagined the others would think she didn’t care.

Two days after Seven’s death, she had gone to visit her future self in prison. She had had to force her way in, as the former admiral had asked for no visitors. Janeway would have tried sooner or later, but this was too important to dither or delay. Staring at the stars- Earth’s stars, so like the Delta Quadrant ones, and yet so alike in that they never gave her the absolution she sought – Janeway remembered the visit. When the prison officials had first told her she wouldn’t be allowed in, she had refused to take no for an answer and had pretended she was sent by the higher-ups – a few data “modifications” made her claim more credible.

When she had first seen the former admiral, she had had to stifle a gasp and it had taken all her diplomatic skills to school her features into nothing more than polite concern. The woman who was sitting in front of a bare table in a small, harshly-lit room, looked like a shadow of the commanding presence who had alighted on Voyager only two months previously. Deep, dark shadows underlined her eyes, making them appear sunken, severe lines contrasted with the softness that had still been apparent on her features and her whole demeanour screamed of defeat and surrender.

“How are you, Admiral?” Janeway had ask, so taken aback that she didn’t even consider the fact that her counterpart was an admiral no longer. In her head, she still was.

“I’m fine, Captain. Why are you here? Why aren’t you getting on with your life? I said I didn’t want any visitors. You would think they could at least grant me that wish.”

“I’m sorry I intruded. I – I had to see you. I…”

Janeway steeled herself for the announcement and adopted the tone she used when she had bad news to impart to her crew: “Seven of Nine died two days ago. Her cortical node failed. It was – I believe she didn’t suffer.”

If the older woman hadn’t been sitting down, she probably would have fallen. She reeled and her face whitened. Janeway instinctively extended her arms across the table, only to be stopped by the forcefield which separated her from the other side. She remained arms extended, hoping to project compassion by her gesture, even if she couldn’t touch the other woman. The former admiral lifted her wrist to her eyes and wiped them with the sleeve of the drab prison outfit she was wearing. Janeway’s sharp eyes caught a tinge of blue and she frowned – were those bruises on the admiral’s wrist?

“They say you can’t change the past,” murmured the older woman…”I should have known.”

“You couldn’t have known,” replied Janeway softly. “You did what you thought was right. You tried to spare me the pain. For God’s sake – you even took my punishment for me. Here I am, free, in a cushy desk job, and you’re…”

“I’ll be fine”, interrupted the admiral curtly. “I deserve it.”

“To hell with the prime directive, uh? But seriously – you shouldn’t have done that. And – I’m worried about you. How are you?”

“Fine, Captain. Just fine.”

The door opened and a burly security guard came in: “Visit’s over. Come on, Janeway!” She cuffed the former admiral roughly and the captain caught a wince of pain on the older woman’s face. Something was very, very wrong.

*****

“Admiral Nechayev would like to see you in her office as soon as possible, Captain.”

“Very well. I’ll be on my way in five.”

Janeway sighed and stood up, straightening her uniform. She glanced quickly at the mirror and ran her hand through her hair, trying to give it a semblance of order. Since she had come back from the prison two hours previously, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her future self. Was it possible that she was being abused? This shouldn’t be possible in a Federation prison, but…

Admiral Nechayev’s office was one floor up from hers and Janeway decided to take the stairs – she missed the exercise she got on Voyager. It would also give her a few minutes to clear her mind – she wondered what the fleet admiral wanted with her. The admiral’s aide led her into the room and when she glanced at the admiral’s face, Janeway understood she was in trouble. She stood at attention before her superior desk and waited for her to speak.

“Captain – thank you for coming so promptly.” The admiral’s tone belied her words and since she made no move to offer Janeway a seat, the captain remained standing, uncomfortable in a position she hadn’t had to assume for seven years.

“Apparently I sent you to visit former Admiral Janeway in the Alpha Prison, motive “highly confidential”.”

Uh-oh… Janeway hadn’t thought her subterfuge would be discovered. She shifted slightly and nibbled on her lower lip, wondering what she could say.

“Anything to say for yourself, Captain Janeway?”

Janeway hesitated: “Permission to speak freely, Sir?” Better to ask, since she was already in hot water.

Nechayev nodded.

“I know I shouldn’t have done that, Admiral, but – I needed to see her. To tell her about Seven of Nine – she cared for her, as I do – did. And…” She hesitated, but the bruises on her future self’s wrists were still fresh on her mind. “I’ll take the consequences, Sir, but – I think something is wrong – I’d like permission to talk to her further. I have reasons to think she might be mistreated there.”

Nechayev frowned: “If it was anyone else saying that, Captain, I’d think you’re trying to escape retribution for your misdeed with a red herring. As it is…I’m sorry you went to such length to get your way. You’re just been playing in the hands of your detractors. Some of us had been thinking of promoting you, but it’s obvious you need to learn your way through the chain of command again. This kind of rogue behaviour might have served you well in the Delta Quadrant, but is totally unacceptable from a senior officer here – is that understood?”

Janeway bit her lower lip so hard she tasted the blood: “Yes, sir.” The reprimand stung. She admired the woman. She didn’t have that many people fighting in her corner, and to know that she had disappointed the fleet admiral disappointed her too.

When Alynna Nechayev resumed talking, her tone was more gentle: “I’m sorry about your loss, Captain. I know you were close to Seven of Nine. It’s no excuse for hijacking regulations, but…I understand. This won’t go on your file.”

The gentleness was Janeway’s undoing, and to her horror, as she answered: “Thank you, Sir”, she felt her eyes moisten. The dam broke and all the tears she hadn’t shed during Seven’s funeral suddenly stung and rolled down her cheeks. Still standing rigidly, she tried to swallow them back but to no avail. The admiral stood up, went to a console behind her desk and handed her something white. Then Alynna Nechayev guided her towards the couch and sat down next to her until she calmed down. The blonde admiral wasn’t a demonstrative person by any means, but the hand she put on Janeway’s thigh was comforting and Janeway sensed she really understood.

When she finally left, Admiral Nechayev had promised to look into former Admiral Janeway’s confinement conditions.

*****

Alone in her office, Alynna Nechayev let out a sigh and stared at the door, a small smile forming on her lips. Janeway was exasperating but also very endearing. Alynna could see herself in the small, feisty woman, although she would never have made it to fleet admiral if she had flouted so many rules. She admired the sheer determination of the captain who had, against all odds, brought her ship back, and she had been sorry to see the older Janeway convicted, although there had been no choice. However, if there was any chance that what the captain said was true, she would immediately put a stop to it. For both Janeway’s sakes. She sighed again and went to order herself a cup of strong, black tea from the replicator. Holding the cup in both hands, she let her mind wander…

****

Back in her cell, the admiral massaged her wrists, where the bruises were rapidly turning purple-green. There were other bruises, too, on her back and legs, but without a dermogenerator, there wasn’t much she could do. One of the guards happened to be the sister of Ensign James Cooper, who had found his death in the first year of Voyager’s journey, and she was doing her best to avenge him. Moreover, that guard had managed to convince some of the prisoners that the former admiral had committed unforgivable crimes and had escaped lightly because of her rank, and these prisoners had decided to make her pay. When she was alone in her cell and whenever the guard was on duty, she would sometimes come and slap or punch her just for the fun of it, and she had seen her spit in her food several times. When she was supposed to be in “recreation time” with the other inmates, they would either insult her or molest her, and there was no escape. Today, however, the pain of her injuries was nothing compared to her grief. Losing Seven twice doubled the pain. Why? Had she done all that in vain? Would Kathryn be as alone and lonely as she herself had been? Would she have as many burdens to bear, as many sorrows to endure? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to get worse before it gets better, but there will be a happy - and very unexpected -ending ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Eight months later**

“If you receive this communication, Kathryn, it means I’m dead – you remember my grand-father’s illness. We all thought the gene had been suppressed at my birth, but…Something happened. Maybe it was what happened on Voyager. Maybe something else. I’m recording that before I lose complete control over my mind, and when that happens, I shall only have a few more months to live. I’ve instructed my sister to send you this message when she commits my spirit to the ancestors. I had hoped to see you again, to explain, but…I’m sorry, Kathryn, for hurting you and leaving you when you needed me. For not telling you I loved you. That last conversation almost killed me – I thought it was for the best, and I was probably mistaken. You need to know the truth: when Starfleet released me from prison, they did it under the condition I never came back to Earth again, never tried to talk to you or any of the others – otherwise your position in Starfleet would have been in jeopardy. I stupidly agreed and the only way I could leave was to make you think I didn’t care about you anymore. I want you to know that these years spent at your side have been the best of my life – even when we were at loggerheads. I hope – I hope you can be happy, Kathryn – you deserve to be happy. You deserve someone wonderful, and I hope you find him. Goodbye, Kathryn. May the spirits protect you.”

Janeway stared unseeingly at the padd in front of her, at the face she had trusted and loved.

“Dismissed!”, she murmured to the young aide who had brought her the padd and who stood uneasily in front of her desk. He scampered and buried her head into her hands. She didn’t believe it – it couldn’t be true. Not that she doubted Starfleet’s “conditional liberty”, or Chakotay’s gallant behaviour, sacrificing himself rather than endangering her career. But she couldn’t believe she would never see him again. She forced herself to listen to the second message on the padd. Seskaya, Chakotay’s sister – unmistakably so, as they shared the same broad forehead and penetrating eyes – assured her that it was all true – her brother had been cremated according to their customs the day before. The young woman added: “He did love you, Captain, and it broke his heart to leave you. I’m sorry to be the bearer of such news. May the spirits grant you peace.”

So this was how it ended. She had lost them both – Seven and Chakotay. Knowing that he had loved her was a small comfort, but no match for the agony she was now feeling. She suddenly doubled over, breathless, a deep pain gripping her abdomen, and as bile rose in her throat, she just had time to reach the en suite loo before she emptied the contents of her stomach in the basin. She had waited seven years, and now it was too late.

*****

Former Admiral Kathryn Janeway cursed and hurried to the transporter station – she never used to be late, but after the months she had spent in prison, she had developed an aversion to schedules. She still, however, hated not to be on time. Her new life as civilian scientific consultant for Starfleet Command offered many advantages, since she no longer had to obey orders from her hierarchy, but unfortunately came with many meetings, most of them quite inefficient in her opinion. She supposed she should be thankful she had been offered this opportunity, but then again, it would have been quite ridiculous if Starfleet hadn’t decided to use the knowledge she had gained during her twenty-three years in the Delta Quadrant and her ten years at the future Starfleet Command afterwards. It did mean the Temporal Prime Directive had to be…slightly skewed and circumvented, but she was used to that. Of course, it was also a good way for Starfleet to ensure she wouldn’t be tempted by other maverick schemes.

She did, however, owe a debt of gratitude to Alynna Nechayev. If she had remained in prison much longer, she probably wouldn’t be alive today. The abuse had gone crescendo and since a few of the inmates had managed to get their hands on knives, it had also become more life-threatening. Even now, after having been treated with dermoregenerators, she still bore some scars. Some of the wounds had also been infected and she still had bouts of fever due to the infection not being treated in time – the fact that she had been severely malnourished and was several pounds underweight at the time of her release had not helped matter. Admiral Nechayev had managed to get her sentence overturned, and she suspected her younger self had had something to do with it. She still had to wear the e-monitor, but she was out and free. She had been offered a small flat, about half the size of her former quarters on Voyager, which, after several months, almost felt like home.

She was deep into a rapport on the presence of biomatter in the Delta Quadrant when the door of her office at Starfleet Headquarters burst open and a very familiar sihouette appeared.

“Can I come in?” said Janeway, stepping inside and standing rigidly a few feet from the door.

“You’re already in, Kathryn – a little late to ask, don’t you think?” replied the older woman, smiling but not lifting her eyes from the padd she was looking at. Her younger self didn’t often come to see her – actually, it was only the second time since she had been released from prison. She was going to say something to that effect and make a joke of it but the sound of muffled crying stopped her words and when she looked up, she saw that Kathryn had crumpled into an armchair and was sobbing into her hands.

“Kathryn! What’s wrong?” She was on her feet and at the younger woman’s side in a second. Neither of them were prone to hysterics – stoicism was ingrained in their nature – but it took several minutes for Janeway to stop crying long enough to wail: “He’s dead – he’s dead and I’ll never see him again.”

There was no need for more explanations. No need for names – only one “him” could cause such an outburst of emotion. And there was nothing to say either. Words would always be inadequate when death of hope was concerned. The older woman wrapped Janeway in her arms and let her weep. 


	11. Epilogue

**Six years later**

“You wanted to see me, Admiral?”

Janeway stood stiffly at attention in front of Admiral Nechayev’s desk.

“I did – you were supposed to report to me immediately after your return to Earth, Admiral Janeway.”

“With all due respect, Sir, my ship only landed an hour ago.”

Alynna Nechayev scowled. “An hour and twelve minutes ago, Admiral. This could count as insubordination.”

Janeway fidgeted slightly. “I apologise for my tardiness, Sir. I’m ready to assume the consequences.”

“Come here, please.”

Janeway broke her rigid stance and stepped forward. Alynna Nechayev stood up and the corners of her mouth began to twitch. A second later, the two women were in each other’s arms.

“Oh – I missed you, Katya. It feels like…”

“Like six months, an hour and twelve minutes, Alynna. I know…”

The kiss started slowly, their lips rediscovering each other, and then became frantic, as the two women tried to make up for their time apart.

“We shouldn’t… Someone could come in…”

“No one would dare to disturb the debrief of an admiral by the fleet admiral, Alynna. I think we’re pretty safe.”

The women moved to the settee and sat down. Janeway rested her head on Alynna’s shoulder, playing with her short white-blond hair, enjoying the feeling of togetherness – even though both women were petite, they fitted extraordinarily well, like two pieces of an intricate puzzle. Something they had discovered about a year previously, after a party for the 250th anniversary of Starfleet. Admiral Nechayev had suggested to the newly promoted Admiral Janeway that they should go together. “At least we’ll have each other to talk to,” she had said. “I’m not sure I can take one more evening of pompous men talking down to me, even though my rank is higher than any of theirs.”

Janeway hadn’t wanted to go at all. The weight of the deaths of the three people closest to her heart in short succession, after seven years of overburdening responsibility and care, had made her somewhat of a recluse. She would have welcome another deep-space mission, preferably in a small shuttlecraft on her own… Since that wasn’t likely to land on her doorstep, she forced herself to keep acting the part of a functional human being and a loyal Starfleet officer, a part requiring diplomacy and endless meetings but she eschewed social occasions as much as possible. Admiral Nechayev hadn’t given her much of a choice, however, pointing out that it wasn’t a social occasion so much as a corporate one. “You’re an admiral now. You have to play the game.”

Janeway had demurred at first – under the thin veneer of normality hid so many layers of fragility, hopelessness and grief that she feared the least deviation to her lonely routine would expose raw wounds. But duty had won and she had donned her dress uniform for the first time in years and accompanied Alynna Nechayev to the party. She had allowed herself two flutes of champagne and maybe the alcohol had gone to her head a little and made her maudlin, since after a few hours at the party she suddenly feared going home alone, to her dark, empty flat where no one would ever be waiting for her. And so, in a sheepish little voice, she had asked if Alynna Nechayev wanted to come in for a nightcap. She did… And it all began from there.


End file.
